


All the Way Down

by canistakahari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Reversal, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, Humor, M/M, Retail, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo works in a clothing store. Jim is a hot-shot lawyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Way Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_jack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/gifts).



> Age reversal modern-day AU: Jim Kirk is 27 and Leo McCoy is 21.

Leo’s life is shirts all the way down.  
  
It doesn’t matter how many he folds and arranges on the tables, because he’ll be folding double that number by the end of the day when the customers have mostly dispersed, leaving a shameless explosion of merchandise in their wake.  
  
There’s a depressing inevitability to finishing with a display, every shirt pristine and stacked in neat piles, only for a customer to wander up, pick up a shirt to examine the graphic and then toss the unwanted item onto the rest of the pile. Leo is still struggling with the concept of a) not taking it personally and b) avoiding the urge to freak the fuck out and flip all the display tables himself.  
  
“Hey, McCoy, get yourself up to POS,” says Scotty as he passes hurriedly by with a box in his arms. Leo’s heart sinks. It’s probably full of more shirts for him to fold. Everything is shirts. Everything hurts.  
  
“POS?” he echoes, when his ears catch up with the rest of him. “But I’m not trained on cash yet.”  
  
“Well, it’s time to learn!”  
  
Oh god. Oh  _god_ , this is going to end in tears. Hopefully just his own.  
  
“Oh thank god, there you are!” says Gaila, when Leo joins her behind the counter. “I thought I was going to wet myself. I’ll be back in a second. If someone comes up, just stall, okay?” With a sprint worthy of an Olympic athlete, she disappears in the direction of the employee bathroom, leaving Leo frozen in front of the cash register.  
  
Obviously, life chooses that exact moment to shit on him.  
  
“Hey,” says the blond, blue-eyed man in the smart black wool coat and tan scarf as he plops down a pile of clothes on the counter. He looks like a lawyer or a businessman, which means he definitely shouldn’t be shopping here in the land of pre-ripped jeans and Nintendo graphic tees. Goddamn him. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but would you mind being extra quick when you ring these up? I’m going to miss my train.”  
  
Most of Leo wants to curl up and die quietly, because this is just his brand of luck, but his brain hits a wall and instead of employing Gaila’s stalling tactic or calling loudly for help, he resorts to his instinctive defense of ill-advised sarcasm. “And so, in light of your impending deadline, you decided that this was an appropriate time to go shopping for—” he pauses to count, “—ten identical polo shirts? Seriously?”  
  
He immediately snaps his mouth shut, but it’s too late.  
  
The man blinks, completely taken aback, and then he lets out a startled laugh. “Service with sass. Okay.” He gestures at the hand scanner lying abandoned by the register. “Don’t you have to, you know, scan these in order to check me out? Then I trade you payment for products?”  
  
Leo’s brain disengages from the program in abject panic. “I’m checking you out right now,” says his mouth, while his brain screams  _abort abort abort for god’s sake just dive below the counter and pretend you were just a stupid hallucination!_  
  
To his utter shock, the man’s smile grows. “Are you? Well, I’m flattered, kid.” His gaze flickers down to Leo’s nametag. “Leo,” he amends. “Are you always this charming?”  
  
With a near-audible rush, Leo regains his sanity. “Oh my god,” he says, his face flushing red. “I am  _so sorry_ —”  
  
“Leo!” interrupts Gaila, ducking under the counter and practically shoving him out of the way. “What are you doing all the way up here at the front of the store, where you could potentially interact with people? Stock room! Now!”  
  
Leo takes the proffered exit and bolts into the back room to have a quiet nervous breakdown, where he loiters until Gaila comes to find him about five minutes later. “Here,” she says, handing him a little piece of paper. Hot Blond Lawyer left this for you.”  
  
Leo takes it dumbly.   
  
Written on it, in untidy handwriting, is a phone number, signed:  _Name’s Jim. Call me. PS: I was checking you out, too._


End file.
